Spanish Guitar
by Deadly Little Miho
Summary: [ONE-SHOT] What's going through a womans mind as she sits in a smoky bar watching a mysterious Mexican mariachi. One of the very few El focused OUATIM fanfics!


_Another one shot, so sue me! I swear I'm working on ideas for a many chaptered story and I hope to have the first chapter up within the coming weeks. Anyway, back to this story..._

_This one shot was born out of my pure frustration of the lack of El Mariachi fanfics out there. The whole of the Once Upon A Time In Mexico category seems to be filled with Sands. Now don't get me wrong, Sands is cool and all but some of us prefer that sexy, brooding, dark Mariachi. So this is my ode to El..._

_Oh also, it's set before the film but after Carolina and his daughter have been killed by Marquez... bastard._

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own El Mariachi. Hmmph._

**Once Upon A Time In Mexico**

**Spanish Guitar**

I step into the bar once more, an overwhelming stench of alcohol and smoke knocks me back but still I proceed, heading to the same small table I've inhabited every night for the past two weeks. I slide into the familiar hard wooden seat and stare intently at the small stage in the corner of the bar. He's not here yet but my eyes never leave that stage. The cloud on which my dark angel sings of his despair. A passing waitress asks me what I would like to drink. My heart is responding.

_Him, _It whispers to me, _He's all I need to quench my thirst, ease my hunger, aid my healing._

I order a Chango beer but I have no desire to consume it. Alcohol won't intoxicate me the way his words will, the way his chords will. The door swings open once again. A dark figure suddenly cuts off the shaft of light which briefly lit up the doorway. He walks into the bar, the shadows seem to follow him as he walks, shielding his face from the watching crowd. He holds a guitar case. It's him. _El Mariachi._

He sets his case on the stage and opens the lid. A beautiful dark guitar sits inside. He lifts it out, handling it gently as if it was alive. He runs a hand over the curves as if running his hand over a beautiful woman. I shudder as I imagine his hands caressing me the same way. He runs his fingers over the strings, letting out a soft melancholic chord. He gently kisses the head before stepping up on to the stage.

He begins to gently pluck at the rough metal strings. The guitar sings a depressing song, a song of sadness, a song of lonliness, a song of a great loss. He closes his dark brown eyes and opens his mouth. Words spill out, a beautiful stream of sadness. I don't understand what he's saying - my own understanding of Spanish only stretches to the odd curse word - but I do understand what he's feeling. The pain shows through in his voice and draws me in. I close my own eyes and let the music wash over me. The melodies which drew me in 14 nights before fill my senses once again and I become paralysed with my feelings for this mysterious Mexican musician.

After what seems like an eternity lost in his music, I open my eyes once more. I look his way. For a brief moment I'm shocked by how much sadness his features hold. His full lips never curl upwards, his eyes never show any positive emotion. I wish I could slide into his embrace, kiss away his pain, let him realize there is good in this world. I want to make him forget whatever's destroying him inside and let his face hold happiness once again.

His eyes open as he finishes his lament. Applause rips through the bar, jolting me from my daze. I stare across at him, looking straight at his dark eyes, so much sorrow clouds them. No-one should feel the way he must feel. He looks up at the crowd, never allowing any sign of appreciation for them to show through.

As he begins to pluck the strings of his guitar once more, my heart fills with longing once more. His song is so melancholic, so sad. It echoes my own feelings on life. His eyes close again, blocking out the joyful faces watching him and he begins to sing once again, I feel a lump rise in my throat. His voice holds so much pain. I don't understand what he's saying but I do understand the pain he feels. A tear rolls down my cheek. I should leave. I need to get out of there before I surrender to the sadness he is causing me to feel. I need to leave before I cry and embarass myself in front of the crowd but he keeps me there. I can't leave until he's finished playing.

One song rolls into another, each song more depressing than the last. The crowd doesn't respond anymore. They just sit and listen in silent awe. The final song ends and the crowd breaks its silence. The applause and screams are deafening but still he does not acknowledge thier praise. His eyes are still shut, he's reflecting - I assume - on what he's just sung about. Finally after a minute of praise, his eyes flutter open. They're staring straight at me. His chocolate orbs boring into my own blue eyes. The intensity of his stare is so intense, I swear my heart stops. Then, as suddenly as the contact began, it ends. My moment with the mariachi is over. I stand up and leave the bar. I need not return. That stare was all I needed. While I still long for his touch, his kiss, his love, I realize I can never have him. His heart belongs to someone else. His heart belongs to Mexico.

_Jesus, you have no idea how hard that was to write. My head was brimming with ideas but it was so hard to put them into words. Anyway... apologies about the length and the quality. I personally don't think it's that good but the person I showed it to seemed to like it so I figured I'd put it up anyway. The title doesn't really have much to do with the fic but it's the title of the song which inspired this idea. I couldn't think of anything better._

_R&R people, flames will be used to roast rabid Johnny Depp fangirls._


End file.
